


Five times Mollymauk Tealeaf was ready for death, and one time he wasn't

by Argentum_Industires



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, But in the meantime...., F/F, Gen, I knew it, M/M, Multi, Post ep26, This was coming, You knew it, he'll be fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argentum_Industires/pseuds/Argentum_Industires
Summary: He always knew Death would catch up to him





	Five times Mollymauk Tealeaf was ready for death, and one time he wasn't

**Author's Note:**

> I have nothing more to say.
> 
> Enjoy?

**One**  
  
The first time Molly is ready for death, he isn't Molly.  
  
Lucien knows what has to be done. The deal has been struck, and he has to uphold his end of the bargain.  
  
It's why he left them. Why he's currently standing without his crew, surrounded by figures in hooded red robes. He'd made up stories and excuses, slipped into welcoming shadows and travelled to his demise with only determination in mind.  
  
The dirt is soft under his bare knees, and he pretends his hands aren't trembling as he rests them on his thighs.  
  
He's staring at the hollowed out ground in front of him. A shallow grave, big enough for one tiefling.  
  
A glance up at the men around him.  
  
"Take it away, gentlemen."  
  
He doesn't even feel the first cut.  
  
**Two**  
  
The second time Mollymauk Tealeaf is ready for death, he still isn't Molly.  
  
He wakes up with soil in his mouth.  
  
He claws his way out of the grave like a man possessed, coughing and spluttering and in so, so much pain.  
  
Every inch of skin that is bared to the cold night air flares and burns, and he just barely resists clawing it off, because the far greater, more prevalent pain comes in a deep, agonizing emptiness inside.  
  
His mind tries to make sense of it all, tries to come up with a name, a date an... anything. Only nothingness responds.  
  
He stays there for hours, legs still buried, arms wrapped around himself as the only thought he can have spills from his cracked lips:  
  
"Empty."  
  
The moon guides him out.  
  
**Three**  
  
The third time Mollymauk Tealeaf is ready for death, he has a name, and a family.  
  
The circus took him in. They didn't ask too many questions. None, really. They saw he could juggle and bullshit and that's all they needed.  
  
So he takes this new life and runs with it. Lives every moment he doesn't remember having had and fills his days with all he can experience.   
  
He colours his body and his clothes. Teaches and learns, makes friends with the tall barbarian who turns up in the encampment one night, wordlessly asking for a home.  
  
So when it's all burning, he's ready to burn with it.  
  
The village turned on them in an instant. He can't pinpoint the second they overstayed their welcome,  but one day they were selling tickets and the next the mob came with torches.  
  
And all he has are two glass swords.  
  
It's a fitting end, after all. To die with his new life. In protection of it, of those borrowed moments.  
  
He hears a roar behind him, and the mob recoils, scatters, runs, as Yasha steps out, two skeletal wings extended, eyes pitch black. An angel of death, protecting him. Protecting them.  
  
It's the coolest thing he's ever seen.  
  
**Four**  
  
The fourth time Mollymauk Tealeaf is ready for death, he's sure it's come for him.  
  
He and this group of misfits, the so-called Mighty Nein, had been travelling together for some days, and perhaps, maybe, they weren't so bad.  
  
So much so that when they all agreed to go and seek out a mob boss, he let himself be convinced.  
  
Terrible idea. He should never do that again.  
  
Because by doing it, he finds himself being held by a Tabaxi who is grinning at him as if that should mean something, and calling him Lucien, of all names.  
  
He can feel it then, that tugging emptiness, threatening to take it all away, and he knows that he is in mortal danger. That whoever this individual is, they could bring to his demise.  
  
But they promise answers, if gotten in the right manner.  
  
So he readies himself for his fate, and decides to bluff.  
  
**Five**  
  
The fifth time Mollymauk Tealeaf is ready for death, he's wondering how the hell the Mighty Nein keeps making such terrible decisions.  
  
Because why, oh why, did they agree to chase down a Troll which spewed liquid death? Was the gold really worth it?  
  
Those answers would have to wait, because he has a warlock to save.  
  
It's truly a terrible idea, to walk up to the monster, get into range, but Beau and Yasha are getting ready to grab Fjord, and they need a distraction.  
  
So he bleeds and then he burns as the acid bites into his skin. He keeps going, hacking away, fuelled only by drive and the spluttered encouragement Fjord gives as he fades in and out.  
  
Molly's ready to go down.  
  
The troll falls first.  
  
**+** **one**  
  
When death comes calling for Mollymauk Tealeaf, he thinks he's ready.  
  
He's standing in the middle of battle, and he knows it isn't going to end well. There's too many of them, too strong, and no amount of planning or strikes or firebolts are going to save them.  
  
But maybe he can.  
  
He's low already, and he can feel the blood pumping through his veins, begging to be let out, to explode and hurt and break.  
  
His friends need him to do it. His blood is begging him too. In the feint corner of his mind, a voice so similar to his own spurs him on.  
  
He invokes blood maledict, and the world fades away.  
  
In the darkness, he doesn't feel the blows.  
  
Death embraces him, wearing the face of a slaver.  
  
In that moment, when the rancid breath of the man hits him, asking him for his final words, he's taken away.  
  
He remembers.  
  
Giving Yasha the book on manners, and the first four leaf clover to put inside. Stopping by the roadside to pick more. Delighting in exploring this new world together.  
  
Egging Nott on, revelling in her antics and explosive personality. Watching her watch the room. Grow accustomed to their group. Take apart and learn and understand mechanisms he had no hope of ever grasping.  
  
Sitting side by side with Fjord, enjoying the quiet moments. Planning daring heists, and doubling up when it all went wrong. Watching an enigma unravel.  
  
Pure delight in Jester's actions, experiencing every day with her endless enthusiasm and joy. Laughing at her crude jokes. Kinship, both taken from another world and thrown into this one. Happiness in the small things.  
  
Grumbling at Beau, laughing at her expense. Getting high and telling secrets. Slowly opening up. Seeing her fall in love, and scramble because of it. Telling each other to go to hell, and meaning not a second of it.  
  
Watching Caleb's eyes light up whenever they met a bookshop. Their hands both trembling as they use their magic. Knowing glances and blissfully blue eyes. A feeling he can't quite place, but that is unmistakably right.

Learning who Mollymauk Tealeaf is. That he loves the moonlight, and hates horseback. That there is nothing better then the look of glee when he tells a fortune. His ability to drink. His utter inability to convingly lie. His quirks and tells and beautifully stitched together life. 

  
He hears the slaver's last request from far away.  
  
Spitting blood in his face feels like a victory.  
  
Death comes, and he's not ready.  
  
He isn't empty anymore.  
  



End file.
